Your Star
by gleeme33
Summary: Karen Julia Wills, daughter of Derek Wills, has no idea who her mother is. While accompanying her Uncle Tom and Aunt Julia to out of state previews of their new show, Karen and her best friend Kyle try to stitch the pieces together. But what if her mother was never that far away to begin with?
1. Chapter 1

She sat alone on the edge of the rooftop, swinging her legs over the side. The gripping feeling in the pit of her stomach did not frighten her or make her get up and walk away. She welcomed this feeling, this fight-or-flight, frightening, enthralling feeling. More than that, she _relished_ it. Feeling nothing but New York air beneath her dangling feet, gazing down at the millions of now ant-sized people on the streets, and breathing in the perfect smell of the City – a scent made up of gasoline, hot pretzels, chocolate, cold winter air, chestnuts, caramel, and a closet full of leather coats. The girl couldn't help but smile as the wind blew her blonde hair in front of her face, falling over her blue-grey eyes. The girl reached a hand up to her face, fixing her blonde tendrils behind her ear and again looking down to all the people so many stories below. She liked to gaze upon all of the people she could when she had the time, trying to meet each of them in the eyes if possible; thinking of what their lives could be like, where they were going now and what they had done to get here, to the greatest place on earth…

"Karen Julia Wills! What are you doing up here again? If I told you once, I've told you a hundred times! Get down from there, will you? If your father knew you were up h – "

" – Uncle Tom!" The girl swung her legs back onto the rooftop, bent her knees, and hauled herself to her feet. She ran to her uncle and gave him a huge hug. "You're back from Boston! Is Aunt Julia back too? What about Dad? How'd the show go? Do you think you'll get a Broadway transfer? Are you going to have to go out of state again for more previews? Is Aunt Eileen – ?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tom threw his arms up and laughed. "One question at a time!" Karen responded with another hug.

"I'm glad you're back," she said.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world. But…" he made a face that made his niece laugh out loud. "I've got less than twenty-four hours to get you something, so don't blame me if the gift for your big one-seven isn't so – "

" – You don't have to get me anything."

"Oh, c'mon, I want to get you something! If worst comes to worst, though, you're going to end up with another Houston-Levitt piano book…"

"But there's something I _really do _want, something you don't have to buy me…" Karen added. He shook his head, and gave in.

"What is it?"

"For my birthday," she prompted. "Would you tell me about my mother?"

Tom sighed and put an arm over his niece's shoulder.

"C'mon," he said. "Let's go inside."

They exited the roof and reentered the building, trailing down the halls until they reached the door and unlocked the penthouse apartment that Karen and her father lived in together. Tom went straight to the refrigerator.

"Got anything to eat here? I'm starving."

"Sure," said Karen. "I could make you something. Or there's leftovers in the – wait," she realized what he was doing, and closed the refrigerator door. "You're changing the subject. Please, Uncle Tom, I'm begging you. Whenever I ask my dad…"

"He doesn't tell you anything about her, does he?"

"No, he doesn't," she told him. "He never does, and I'm starting to thinking he never will."

The two of them were silent for a moment, until the girl's uncle said:

"Honey, sit down, okay?"

Karen sat.

"I really shouldn't tell you anything if your dad wouldn't want you to – "

"_Please_, Uncle Tom," the soon to be seventeen-year-old made on final plea.

"Alright, alright…" he sighed again, and looked down at the girl. "First of all," the composer started, "you look like her. Almost exactly like her. Your eyes are closer to your dad's, but your face, your hair color, everything else. Aside from your eyes, you're the spitting image of her. Your dad never even told you _that_?"

"N-no…" the girl was taken aback. "Do I really look like her?"

"_Just _like her."

"What else can you tell me about her?"

"Well," he continued. "You're a lot like her, too. You're just as talented, and beautiful, and intelligent as her. Your mother has this way about her, where she…she just knows exactly what to say to make things better; how to handle a situation. She doesn't always listen to it, but she has it in her. You have that, too. And she doesn't take anything lying down, like you…"

"Wait a second," Karen's mouth fell open in surprise. "She…she's _alive_? I just…my dad always sort of implied that she was dead…"

"No, Karen, she isn't dead," Tom admitted in a very serious tone. "Your mother is very much alive. He should never have implied otherwise."

Again, silence, then:

"Karen," he breathed. "I know three women who are extremely inspirational. You were named after two of them. Your mother is the third."

Karen was completely silent for another minute, unsure what to do with all of this information. Her mother was alive? Though her father never outright said that her mother was dead, he constantly implied it, throwing around phrases like: 'what would your mother think of you if you faced the world dressed like _that_?' whenever she wore something that her dad deemed 'inappropriate for a young lady such as yourself', or 'your mother would be so proud of you' if he ever wasn't working so late and could catch the end of one of her voice lessons or summer stock performances. But if her mother really _was_ alive, why was she nowhere to found? Why did her father refuse to talk about her? And how would Tom know so much about her? Suddenly, another question popped into Karen's mind.

"Who am I named after?" She asked. "I mean, I know my middle name is Julia because of Aunt Julia – but I don't think I know a Karen…"

"You know what," said Tom, as an idea sprang into his head. "I know exactly what to get you for your birthday. Did your father tell you when he'd be getting home?"

"He's coming straight from Boston, like you did," Karen answered. "So any minute now. Why?"

"You'll see."

"But, wait, Uncle Tom…how does that have anyth – "

It was then when they both heard a distinct tapping on the window, coming from the boy perched on the fire escape.

"Go ahead," urged Tom. "Go play with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Karen argued, but then added: "You don't mind?"

"Not at all," the pianist replied as the tapping continued. "I have to ask your father something when he gets home, anyway."

"Okay," the blonde girl responded, starting to walk over towards the window. "And thanks, Uncle Tom. For…you know, everything."

He nodded to her as a reply, and the girl walked out of the kitchen, opened the window that the boy had been knocking on, and stepping out onto the fire escaping, closing the window behind her.

"What's up, Kyle?"

"Guess what show I saw last night?"

"_Hit List_, again?"

"No, no – I was out of town with my mom. I convinced her to let me come along to Boston."

"Really? You saw my dad's show?" An ear-to-ear smile spread across Karen's face. "I heard your mom's fabulous in it!"

"It was great," Kyle said. "Well – _Boston _great. It still needs some work before going to Broadway. My mom said they might get sent out of town again – probably down to Florida this time," he slid the girl a playbill, and added: "happy almost seventeenth birthday, Karen."

Karen picked up the playbill and studied it excitedly. The show in question was a new original musical, based on the lives of Anne and Mary Boleyn. As the playbill proclaimed, it was produced by Eileen Rand, directed by Derek Wills – Karen's father – with a book by Julia Houston – who Karen called her aunt – and had a score composed by Tom Levitt – who Karen called her uncle, and had just left alone in her kitchen. It starred Karen Collins – Kyle's mom – and Ivy Lynn as Anne and Mary Boleyn, with Michael Swift as King Henry VIII, and Ana Vargas as Catherine of Aragon.

"It's supposed to be the next _Les Mis_!" Karen exclaimed, reading through the scattered quotes from early reviewers. "Was it really that good?"

"It will be," said Kyle. "Once they work out the kinks."

As Karen flipped through the pages of the playbill, it finally hit her.

"Kyle," she said tentatively. "I…I don't know why, but...I think I was named after your mom."


	2. Chapter 2

"She's so beautiful, Ivy."

Karen Cartwright walked into the newly pink-painted nursery, smiling at the newborn in Ivy's arms. The baby girl's tiny hands held onto her mother; Ivy held her close to herself and at a particular angle at which anyone who tried to get to the child would have to go through her mother first. Karen shook her head and smiled, letting out a small giggle.

"She has your face," she said to the new mother. "_Exactly_ your face."

"Yes," said Ivy, not taking her eyes off her little girl. "She does."

"What's her name?"

"We aren't sure yet," the blonde kissed her daughter's head and slightly bounced her in her arms. "We were thinking…Marilyn. Marilyn Julia Wills. But…that's kind of an awful thing to put on her, you know? I…" she studied her daughter's face in silence for a moment, then continued: "I want to give her a life in the theatre, because it's something that's made me the person I am today. But I don't want to force her to be anything that she isn't. If she sees all that the theatre has to offer as she grows up with it all her life, and decides to pursue a career in it, that would be amazing. But if she wants to be anything else – a doctor, or a lawyer, or a mechanic, anything – then that would be just as amazing. I don't want her to think we're forcing the theatre on her – we'll support anything she wants to do."

"So, what are your other options?" Karen asked. As she did so, the taller girl stretched her hand up to touch the infant, but Ivy pivoted and moved her out of reach.

"Please," she sounded rather desperate. "D-don't…"

"Oh – I-I'm sorry," Karen apologized. "I…I didn't mean – Ivy, are you alright? You don't look well. And you seem kind of…frantic."

"I think I have the right to be a little frantic right now, Karen," Ivy shot back. "I'm sure in eight or nine months, you'll feel the same."

"How…how do you know about that?" Karen gasped.

"I heard you talking to Julia. It's sweet, you know, the way you look up to her. Is she the only one who knows? Have you told Jimmy yet? Because I'm sure he – "

" – He's due to appear in court soon, and – "

" – And that's not the only due date coming up for the two of you. Won't that be a great welcome home? 'Hey Jimmy, I'm so glad you're back, by the way while you were gone I gave birth to your child'!"

"Not so loud, Ivy, please," Karen whimpered, gazing back towards the open door. "They'll hear you…"

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," the brunette replied honestly. "I…I don't know if…if I can even _do _this…"

"Look, Karen," the shorter actress started. "I was nervous at first, too, but – "

" – That's not what I mean. I mean, I don't know if I can _biologically _do this," she elaborated. "When…when I was still doing regional theatre in Iowa, there…there was this guy. And I loved him, and he loved me. We were going to get married. I was going to give up my Broadway dreams for him – for the family we were going to have together…" she had tears in her brown eyes now. "We had just gotten engaged when I found out I was pregnant. But I miscarried."

"But…that doesn't necessarily mean that you can never have children," Ivy told Karen. "Sometimes, that happens for reasons we can't explain, but then – "

" – The hospital transferred me to a specialist after I lost the baby," she said softly. "It wasn't an isolated incident."

"You aren't seriously thinking of not telling Jimmy at all," the blonde prompted. "Are you?"

"Like I said, he's due in court soon. And after Kyle died, he went to this really dark place for a while. I just…I don't know if he can be a father right now, anyway. I don't want this weighing on him if…" but she stopped herself, trailing off, and looking once again at Derek and Ivy's daughter.

"Karen? What happened after you miscarried? I mean…did you…feel any different?"

"What are trying to ask?"

"I just that, sometimes," Ivy looked at her daughter again, and back to Karen. "I just feel so…inadequate. Hopeless. Like I can never be enough for her – like I need to protect her for _everything_…"

"Ivy, can I hold her?" Karen asked.

"What? No!"

"I had PPD. Postpartum depression. After I lost the baby, that is. Please – let me hold her," she extended her arms. "It's okay. Look at me, Ivy – it's _okay_. I promise you it's _okay_."

"I don't believe you."

"And you don't have to. But I am asking you to trust me." At her words, the blonde's blue eyes finally left her daughter and met the brunette's brown ones. "Can you do that? Can you trust me? Can you at least try?"

With much hesitation, Ivy eventually complied.

"That's good," said Karen, as she took the little girl in her arms. "That's very good. If you'll let me, Ivy, I'll be there for you both. I'll help you get through this. I wish someone had been there to do that for me."

"Would you…would you want to be a part of her life?"

"If you'd let me. If by some miracle this baby turns out alright – "

" – By some miracle?" Ivy laughed. "She is _my _child after all!"

"I wasn't talking about your child. I was talking about mine."

"Karen…"

"If by some miracle this baby turns out alright," the taller girl repeated. "Then our children we'll have each other there. Just like we have each other there now. Right?"

"Right," Ivy answered. "Do you think…" she stopped herself, swallowed, looked yet again at her daughter and back to Karen, then started again. "Do you think I'll be able to beat this? With my history…"

"You beat your pain pill addiction."

"I almost over-dosed. The only thing that got me out of that depression was Bombshell."

"And now you have your daughter to get you out of this one. Your daughter, and me." She kissed the infant lightly on the cheek and added: "you know, she doesn't really look like a Marilyn."

"No," said Ivy. "More like a Karen."

Both Karen's in the room smiled, and the newborn was given again to her mother.

"She's so beautiful, Ivy," the actress repeated herself. "Just like you." And she turned to leave, but the new mother stopped her.

"Karen, wait," she said. "What happened to your fiancé? Why did you end up coming to New York after all?"

"He was a fireman," the girl answered. "He died, saving a family from a burning building. He…he gave his life to save a family, and my own was burning to ashes."

"You should tell Jimmy," Ivy suggested, lying her daughter back down in her crib. "Give him a chance. He deserves that, and so do you. You can't count out this new family because you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Karen sighed. "I'm realistic."

"Tomorrow morning, call your doctor, and make an appointment with another specialist. I'm taking you as soon as they can get you in. You never know. You and your baby may be perfectly fine."

"Like I said, I'm being realistic."

"Like _I _said, you never know."


	3. Chapter 3

"…Can I start again?" Kyle fidgeted nervously with one of the buttons on his shirt.

"Kyle, take a breath," Karen rose from the sitting position she was in on the side of Kyle's bed, and put a hand on her best friend's shoulder. She held a script in her hand, helping Kyle recite lines. "You're doing fine."

"But I can't just be doing fine! I have to be better than fine!" The Collins boy yowled, throwing his arms up in the air. "Sorry," he apologized, when she raised an eyebrow at his flared temper. "I'm sorry. But this is the first Broadway audition for a lead I've gotten. I just want to make sure it's perfect."

"It will be," the blonde girl told him. "_You _will be." Kyle took a much-needed breather. "Okay, are you better now? Not gonna explode for no reason at all?"

"Ha-ha," he deadpanned sarcastically. "You're very funny."

"And your temper's so hot it could start a fire!"

Kyle burst out laughing.

"What?" Karen asked.

"My mom says that to my dad sometimes," the boy laughed. "She says I have my dad's 'ability to loose myself in my anger'."

"You do."

"I know."

It was then when Karen's phone vibrated in her pocket, startling her.

"It's probably my dad texting me again," she sighed, and checked her phone to see that she was right.

"Oh, God," Kyle rolled his eyes. "Is it another 'you better not be with that Collins boy' text?"

"You guessed it."

"Why does your dad hate me?"

"It's not just you," she told him. "My dad hates any boy that comes within a ten-mile radius of me."

"I know he does," he said. "But he _really _hates me. It's weird. Your dad and my mom have worked together for years, and the guy can't stand me!"

"It's not just you," the blonde repeated. "But my dad holds your mom on a pedestal."

"Ew!" The boy spat. "Are you saying your dad loves my mom?"

"No! _Gross_!" She stuck her tongue out. "But to my dad, your mom is like…like this perfect thing that nobody can mess up. It's like…" her eyes wandered to Kyle's desk, and sitting on it was a copy of _The Catcher In The Rye_. Karen walked over, and picked it up. "Your mom is the Jane to my dad's Holden," she elaborated, gesturing to the book.

"Um…what?" The Collins boy didn't follow.

"You've read _The Catcher In The Rye_, right?"

"I bought it for school," he shrugged. "Honestly, I _Spark Noted _it."

"Well," said Karen. "A big piece of symbolism in the book centers around the phoniness of the adult world and the perfection of innocence. The main character, Holden, holds his childhood friend, Jane, up on a pedestal of being this perfect thing because he only remembers her that way. Your mom was the first Marilyn in Bombshell, right?"

"In the Boston previews," Kyle answered.

"Right," she said. "That's why he idolizes her. She's the Jane to his Holden. You know what? Maybe…maybe _that's _why I'm named after her…"

"My mom's the only Karen your dad knows? It couldn't be a different Karen?"

"I don't think so," she said. Her phone vibrated yet again. "I have to go."

"Here," he said, walking over to the window and opening it. "Let me walk you down the fire escape!" They both laughed at this, as they had played on fire escapes together since they were just children.

"Kyle!" A new voice called as the front door opened and then closed. It belonged to Kyle's mother, who the two friends could hear was now clomping up the stairs. She stood in the doorway and started to say something, but stopped when she saw Karen there with her son. "Oh," she quickly curtailed what she had been saying. "I didn't know you were here, Karen."

"Hi, Mrs. Collins," Karen waved shyly. "I…I was just leaving…"

"Mom, can I walk Karen home?" Kyle asked. "I'll come right back."

"Well…" she didn't seem too enthusiastic. "I suppose," she agreed with a sigh. "Good to see you, Karen."

"Good to see you too, Mrs. Collins," said the girl, and the two of them exited out of Kyle's bedroom window, and closed it behind them. "Why does your mom hate me?" Karen asked her friend as they started down the fire escape together.

"She doesn't hate you," Kyle answered.

"Yes, she does!" The blonde exclaimed. "She's warm and fuzzy to everyone else and bitter and cold to me! It doesn't make any sense," she continued. "Like I said, my dad idolizes her."

"She doesn't hate you," the boy repeated. "She just…" but then he thought about it, and gave his friend a shove. "Yeah, actually, she does hate you!"

"What do you think she wanted to talk to you about?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I need to be in her good graces though – I'm gonna beg her to take me to the Florida previews with her. I just hope she didn't find out that I found her and my dad's wedding pictures. She left 'em out the other day – don't know why she was looking at them in the first place – and guess what?"

"What?"

"My parents totally got married because my mom got knocked up!" He laughed. "Seriously, in their wedding pictures she looks like she swallowed a balloon." By this time they reached Karen's apartment, and it was time for them to part ways. "So, if my mom says yes, I'll be gone for a few weeks…"

"Call me every night and tell me how the show's going."

"I will."

"Promise?" She asked.

"Promise." He pledged.

Then they did part ways, with Karen walking into her apartment building and then into the elevator. When she reached her apartment, the girl found her father sitting at their kitchen table, furiously answering an email.

"Is Uncle Tom getting under your skin again?" Karen asked with a giggle.

"It's your Aunt Julia this time, actually," her father answered, then looking up to face his daughter. "Where have you been?"

"With a friend."

"Please tell me you weren't with the Collins boy," Derek grumbled.

"I _could_," said Karen. "I'd be _lying_, but I _could _– "

" – Karen Julia Wills," he interrupted. "I've told you specifically that I _do not _want you around him."

"Why not?" She asked honestly. "You work with Kyle's mom all the time, and you've worked with his dad before, too. How come you don't want me hanging out with him? Kyle's been my best friend since kindergarten!"

"Because I _said so_, sweetheart," Derek reprimanded. "As long as you live under my roof, you will follow my rules."

"Your rules make no sense!" Karen sputtered. "You don't want me to hang out with Kyle, you won't let me audition for any professional work…" she didn't think about the consequences of her words before adding: "And you won't tell me anything about my mother! I know she isn't dead!"

"What are talking about, young lady?"

"I know my mother isn't dead! Why would you imply all these years that she was? Did…did she even ever love me? Is that it? Did she not love me?"

"Don't you _ever _say something like that again," Derek was so angry and hurt that his usually loud voice was reduced to almost a whisper. "Your mother loves you more than anything on this earth. She loves you more than the theatre, more than me, more than _herself_. Don't you _ever _say something like that again, Karen! Do you understand me? Your mother loves you so much that she completely altered her own life to benefit yours! Do you _think _she _wants _to stay out of your life?"

"I have no idea, Dad!" Karen yelled. "You won't tell me _anything _about her! I thought she was dead my whole life! For all I know, she wanted nothing to do with me!"

Karen had never seen her father look so _devastated_ in her entire life.

"That's the opposite of what she wanted," he said softly. Derek slid something across the table to his daughter – a plain ticket. "This is what your Uncle Tom and Aunt Julia got you for your birthday," he said, his voice still shaken. "Pack a bag. You're on a flight to Florida tomorrow."


End file.
